


Just a Boy in his Boxers

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Come Eating, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Pining, Objectification, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: I took a shower and tried to catch my breath.You were lying on top of the bedspreadin boxer shorts, watching cartoons and laughing but not making any sound—> Richard Siken
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 125





	Just a Boy in his Boxers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soy_em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soy_em/gifts).



> For em, who talked about weecest with me this morning. #WeecestWednesday unbetaed cause that’s how I roll

The plain, Walmart boxer shorts really illustrate how much Sammy has grown recently. Little brown nipples and dark peach fuzz under his belly button underline the point and Dean can’t help but salivate. Sam is stretched across the bed Dean had claimed the night before, all long limbs and lithe torso and nothing but his boxer shorts and a silent smile at the cartoons blaring from the tv. Sam looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world and Dean feels strung tight enough to be a guitar string.

Dean all but throws himself into the bathroom, shutting the door too hard behind him trying to shut the images out of his brain. He turns on the shower, icy brown water dribbling from the shower head before the pressure picks up and the water starts to warm up just enough. He strips off his clothes and climbs in, turning the spigot as hot as it will go to burn out the impure thoughts about the pure boy sitting in the next room.

He knows it won’t work. It never does. The shower can’t burn or freeze the nasty, dirty thoughts out of his head no matter how hot or cold he makes the water.

He scrubs the cheap shampoo through his hair and contemplates ignoring his traitorous body’s desire.

But when he closes his eyes he sees Sam’s beautiful skin spread out across his bed and he knows it’s too late; his cock is filling. He won’t be able to go back out there until it’s sated. Not without scandalizing the beautiful boy out there, and that is something he never wants to do.

He reaches for his cock as he mentally queues up his favorite fantasy; sex kitten Sammy on his knees. In his mind he sees those brown-green-gold eyes looking up at him as pink lips sink down over his cock. He wants it more than he could ever possibly say so be able to sink his greedy dick into Sammy. Any part of Sammy.

As soon as the thought crosses his mind his fantasy changes and Sam is once again spread across his bed on his belly but this time, Sam is naked and sweaty, his back arched like a porn star and two of his own fingers stuffed into his little pink hole.

“Deeean. Fuck me. C’mon, I need it, need you right here big brother.” Sans knees spread a little more and dean imagines he can see the shine of lube between those perfect, peachy cheeks. His mouth waters and he lets himself imagine stumbling to the bed and falling to his knees in supplication. He tugs at Sammy's ankle, moving the slim body down the bed until Dean's head is between Sam’s spread thighs, his ass right in front of Dean's greedy, watering mouth.

“Can I kiss you here Sammy? Can I taste you here?” He imagines himself asking as his hand goes faster between his legs. The water in his reality is turning cold and starting to sting his flesh and he knows Sam will be suspicious if his shower runs much longer.

Just as his fantasy self is going to lean down and press his tongue inside of Sam’s enticing pink hole, between the spread of his long fingers, he comes, his cock pulsing and come dribbling over his fingers. Dean grit his teeth and leaned into the spray just long enough to wash the come down the drain then climbed out of the shower and wrapped the threadbare towel around himself and didn’t look at himself in the mirror as he pulled his own boxers up over still damp skin. Dean pulled on a tee shirt and dropped his amulet back over his head to lay heavily between his collarbones before he stepped back into the room.

Sam was still laying on top of the bedspread in his boxers, silently laughing at cartoons.

————————————

The bathroom door closes and Sam rolls onto his stomach before the room quiets. His nose is pressed as firmly into Dean's pillow as it can get and he’s rolling, rolling, jumping his hips into Dean's bed and Dean's smell is in his nose and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

He hears the shower come on and through the paper thin walls can tell when there’s a body between the shower head and the bottom of the tub and he pictures it. He pictures Dean all muscles and perfect, freckled and scarred and wet and Sam can’t help but press his face into Dean's pillow harder, until he’s almost smothered with the scent of it. 

He keeps rocking and moving his hips and it doesn’t take long, or last long enough. The picture of and the smell of his beautiful big brother in his minds eye and on his nose and he’s only just in time to skip a hand into his boxers and cup the head of his sensitive, teenage dick and catch the mess as he comes.

He whines, carefully rubbing his whole body carefully into Dean's bed, trying to eek out all the endorphins he can from the too quick orgasm. His hand curled around his spunk, he pulls it out of his shorts as he hears a hiss and the sound of the shower shutting off. 

In a panic he brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean, swallowing reflexively and hoping that the taste of it doesn’t make him hard again, as it has so many times in the past when he imagined it was Dean.

He rolls back over and stares at the tv, faking a smile at the cartoons there after he checks there are no telltale wet spots on his cheap boxers.

He pretends that he doesn’t notice when Dean comes back into the room; he’s just a boy in his underwear laughing silently at cartoons on the tv.


End file.
